


we three kings

by superhoney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All Manner Of Switching Referenced, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barebacking, Bottom Dean Winchester, Hand & Finger Kink, It's Very Tender Though, Loosely S8, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Rimming, SPN Holiday Mixtape, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21863578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoney/pseuds/superhoney
Summary: This Christmas, Dean is giving himself the gift of uninterrupted time with Cas and Benny. Really, it's a gift for all of them. Three nights in a cozy cabin, a roaring fireplace, and most importantly, one king-sized bed.
Relationships: Castiel/Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 155
Collections: Holiday Mixtape 2019





	we three kings

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say for myself, this is shamelessly self-indulgent Dean/Cas/Benny smut with only the vaguest of holiday/winter trappings. 
> 
> Thanks to muse for running this challenge with me again this year, and to sconesandtextingandmurder for the beta-read!

The snowflakes drift lazily down from the sky, occasionally sent swirling by a gust of crisp winter wind. Dean watches them through the cabin window, their steady descent contrasting sharply with the anticipation rising in his chest. He drums his fingers against the windowsill, eyes narrowed as he watches the long, winding drive that leads up to the cabin. The tire tracks from the Impala have long been covered by the snow, and no new grooves have been worn into the smooth, unbroken whiteness.

“He’ll be here.”

Before Dean can turn to reply, two strong arms slip around his waist. Leaning instinctively into the embrace, his back meets Cas’ solid chest. “That’s a lot of snow,” Dean mutters under his breath.

“He’ll be here,” Cas repeats, firmer this time. His hands tighten around Dean’s middle, and his chin comes to rest on Dean’s shoulder. “If he isn’t--”

Cas trails off, the threat unspoken but still clear. Dean snorts in amusement and covers Cas’ hands with his own. “You promised to be nice.”

“I did.” Cas turns his head to the side and presses a kiss to the bolt of Dean’s jaw. “And that’s the only reason I’m being so patient right now.”

Dean laughs, sliding around to face him. He tilts his face up, shameless, and Cas doesn’t hesitate, just meets his kiss like he’s been waiting for it ever since he came to join Dean at the window. 

Within seconds, Cas’ hands are tangled in Dean’s hair, and Dean’s hands have wandered down the muscled planes of Cas’ back to rest just above the swell of his ass. Dean is so lost in the press of Cas’ lips that he fails to notice the rumble of an approaching vehicle. It isn’t until he hears a knock at the door that he pulls away, Cas swaying back towards him like he isn’t yet ready to let him go. 

Dragging his gaze away from Cas’ swollen lips, Dean glances out the window and fights back the happiness that surges in his heart at the sight of the battered camper parked outside the cabin. 

“I told you he’d be here,” Cas says, sounding far too smug for Dean’s liking. 

“Good for you,” Dean tosses over his shoulder as he moves towards the door. He’s too excited to bother bickering with Cas right now, but that doesn’t mean he won’t bring this up again later, when there are fewer distracting new arrivals. 

He throws open the door, flinching back from the gust of cold air that blows in. It’s immediately negated by the warmth of Benny’s grin, then his embrace. Dean melts into his strong arms and inhales deeply that familiar scent, the wool and woodsy aftershave that clings to Benny like a second skin. “Hey,” he says, words muffled against Benny’s shoulder. “You made it.”

“No little snowstorm was going to stop me,” Benny replies. He pulls back, but leaves his hands on Dean’s shoulders as he examines him, those crystal blue eyes bright and fond. “You look good. Happy.”

Dean ducks his head to cover the blush he can feel rising in his cheeks. “Don’t get emotional on me,” he says. “Not yet. Wait until after the whiskey.”

“Or the sex.” Cas has quietly made his way towards them, and now leans against the wall, surveying Benny and Dean with a hint of a smile on his lips. “Or, given Dean’s usual formula, both.”

Benny laughs, the deep rumble that starts in his belly and never fails to make Dean grin in response. Dropping his hands from Dean’s shoulders, he strides over to Cas and sweeps him up in an embrace just as warm as the one he gave Dean.

Dean settles back against the door, smiling to himself as he watches Cas raise his face to meet Benny’s kiss. It’s been a long time since the three of them were together like this. Too damn long.

Purgatory might have been rough, dirty, and full of monsters, but it also brought them together. It started with quick, furtive handjobs exchanged with Benny, worry over Cas always a low hum in the back of Dean’s mind. And once they found Cas, Dean had been torn-- he and Benny had grown close through their shared experiences, and while it couldn’t quite compare to the depth of history he shared with Cas, he wasn’t willing to just throw it away either. Not even for a chance to finally be with Cas the way he’d wanted to for years. 

Cas had listened to Dean’s awkward ramble of a speech, Benny silent and supportive at his side. When Dean was done, Cas simply raised one eyebrow and said, “I would never ask you to.”

As Dean stood there, mouth hanging open, Benny started to laugh. Offered his hand to Cas, who took it with a wry smile. And that night--

Dean still shivers to remember it.

Now, Cas and Benny slowly pull apart, Cas looking over Benny’s broad shoulder to meet Dean’s gaze. “Shall we give our guest a tour?” he asks.

Exhaling slowly, Dean nods. “Yeah. Sure.” His words are tight, choked-off, his rising desire thick in his throat. Judging by the looks on both Cas and Benny’s faces, they know exactly what state he’s in. It’s unfair, sometimes, dating two supernatural beings. They have the infinite patience of immortality, and Dean?

Dean’s only human, after all. And they’re fucking gorgeous, both of them.

“So.” Jamming his hands into his pockets, Dean nods at the small room. “Living room, TV room, whatever.” He jerks his head to the side. “Kitchen. Which neither of you have much use for, but I plan to spend a decent amount of time in.”

“Then you know we won’t be far away,” Benny says smoothly. “Besides. Just cause I don’t eat the same things you do don’t mean I can’t make them for you.”

“I’ll help,” Cas offers. “You’ll need to keep your energy up.”

“Jesus.” Dean sucks in a startled breath. Cas doesn’t exactly do dirty talk the conventional way, but he has a habit of saying things like that, never failing to send all the blood in Dean’s body rushing downwards. “Okay, then. Moving on.”

He heads down the short hallway, adjusting himself through his jeans as he does. He indicates the bathroom with a vague wave-- he’d hoped to find somewhere with a bathtub big enough for at least two of them, but cabins like this book up fast over the holiday season, and he hadn’t been quick enough. 

Next year, he tells himself. He doesn’t let himself imagine all the things that could go wrong between now and then. Next year, they’re going to have that bathtub.

At the end of the hallway, two doors stand directly across from each other. Dean casts a look over his shoulder at Benny as he pushes open the door on the right. “Here’s your room,” he says as he steps inside, Cas and Benny following him in.

The room is sparsely furnished, just a set of bunk beds pushed against the far wall and one tall, narrow dresser by the window. Benny turns to him, raising an eyebrow, and says, “I didn’t drive all this way to sleep in a bunk bed.”

“No, you did not,” Dean agrees. He bites back a laugh as Cas rolls his eyes in exasperation, but Cas isn’t the one Dean’s trying to make laugh right now. It’s a balancing act between them, Dean’s attention occasionally leaning further in one direction than the other, and he hasn’t seen Benny in weeks.

He doesn’t even register Benny moving before he’s pressed up against the wall, Benny’s solid bulk pinning him in place. “You’re in a mood,” Benny comments, trailing his lips down the side of Dean’s neck. He’s never once asked to bite Dean, and he never will. But this-- knowing what Benny is, what he’s capable of-- brings a sharpness to the gesture that sets every nerve in Dean’s body alight. 

Twisting as best as he can with his limited range of motion, Dean raises his face upwards. “Shut up and kiss me.”

And Benny does.

He always kisses slowly at first. Like he still isn’t quite sure he’s allowed to have this. It breaks Dean’s heart every time, so he responds as deeply and passionately as he can, pouring all his reassurance into his kiss. It steadies Benny, gives him the confidence he needs to respond in kind. In a matter of seconds, he has his hands buried in Dean’s hair, murmuring rough endearments in broken French as he kisses Dean’s lips, his cheeks, the bolt of his jaw. 

The desire simmering in Dean’s body surges to boiling point. He tears himself away, panting, and meets Cas’ eyes over Benny’s shoulder. There’s a small smile playing around Cas’ lips, and-- Dean flicks his eyes downwards and grins-- he’s clearly enjoying the show. It’s about time he got in on the action, though.

Dean pushes gently at Benny’s hips, and Benny backs away immediately. They both know Dean likes being manhandled sometimes, likes knowing both Benny and Cas can throw him around like he weighs nothing, but the second he pushes back, they give. It’s that trust that makes this whole thing work. 

He leads them out of the room and into the one opposite. Benny huffs a quiet laugh from behind him, a warm gust of air against the back of Dean’s neck. “Now this is more like it.”

The room isn’t big, but it’s big enough for a king-sized bed. The navy and white sheets are pristine, just waiting to be disordered by their activities. 

“Now,” Dean says, turning his head and lowering his lashes in a deliberate attempt at coyness. “Where were we?”

It isn’t a surprise that Cas reaches him first. That trick always works on him. He makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like Dean’s name and reaches out to tug at the hem of Dean’s plain olive green Henley. All the imperiousness of an angelic commander, focused on getting Dean naked. He doesn’t stand a chance. 

Fortunately, Benny is equally interested in getting Cas unclothed. He slides in behind him, reaching around his back to pop the buttons of his shirt open one by one. Cas drags his gaze away from Dean’s bare chest, eyes lingering on his anti-possession tattoo, and turns his head to meet Benny’s kiss. Dean lets out a noise that could charitably be called a moan but is more like a whimper, watching the way Benny’s big hands push Cas’ shirt aside, exposing the long lines of his torso.

Cas’ shirt falls to the ground to land beside Dean’s, and the dam is broken. Dean surges forward, his bare chest pressed against Cas’ as he grinds himself shamelessly against the glorious muscles of his thigh. Cas breaks his kiss with Benny and turns back to Dean, blue eyes glittering, and reaches down to tug him even closer. Benny is a solid wall of strength behind them, keeping them upright, but Dean needs them horizontal, now. 

He shoves at his own jeans and boxers as he backs away towards the bed. Benny and Cas both freeze, their gazes locked on his body, so Dean slows down, just enough to tease them, toying with the waistband of his boxers. Benny growls, taking one step forward, but Dean shakes his head. “You’re a little overdressed for this party.”

A split second later, Benny’s shirt flies across the room and hits him square in the face.

Sputtering, Dean pulls the fabric away from himself. Cas and Benny are still watching him, both bare to the waist, and Dean almost forgets how to breathe as he takes in the sight of them. Christ, he’s so goddamned lucky. So, so lucky. 

The instant his boxers hit the ground, they’re on him. 

Dean stretches out down the centre of the bed, with Cas on his right and Benny on his left. Cas’ lips are moving determinedly down his chest and torso while Benny runs one hand up and down Dean’s thigh, close to where he wants it most but not quite reaching it. Dean closes his eyes and sinks back against the pillows, giving in to the overwhelming pleasure. He’s had good sex before-- great sex, even-- but there’s never been anything like this. Both Cas and Benny _know_ him, in the bone-deep sort of way. They know his fears, his weaknesses, his failings, and they’re still here. Both of them. 

Some days, Dean doesn’t think he deserves this. Deserves them. When their lives get too tangled, too messy, too many shifting alliances and complications coming between them, he wonders if they’d be better off never having met him. But on days like this, where there’s nothing but them and the snow, this little cabin their kingdom and this bed their palace, he can let all those thoughts drift away with the wind. 

Dean drags his eyes open again to see that Cas and Benny have both stripped down completely, two long lines of warm, inviting skin pressed on either side of him. He wants to turn one way or the other, but he hesitates, not sure how to proceed. Sensing his dilemma, Cas pushes at his hip, turning him to face Benny. The decision made for him, Dean leans in closer to kiss the tip of Benny’s nose before sealing their mouths together. He can still feel Cas behind him, kisses scattered across his shoulder blades and the column of his spine, gradually moving lower.

He realizes Cas’ intent with a thrill, hips shifting restlessly against the mattress. Benny chuckles against his lips and slips his hands down to Dean’s waist to hold him steady. “You good, cher?”

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs. “I’m good.”

There’s the faint brush of Cas’ lips against the dip of his lower back, and then-- this time, there’s no denying it. Dean whimpers, eyes squeezed shut as Cas’ clever tongue flicks across his hole. He lets out a shuddering breath as Cas pauses, all the muscles in his body tensing and then relaxing at once. “Go on,” he urges. “Cas, please.”

A sound that might be a laugh escapes Cas before he does as instructed. He sweeps his tongue across Dean’s most sensitive spot again, slower this time, more deliberate. Then again, and again, until Dean feels like every bone in his body will dissolve in the sweet sensation of it. Benny is still pressed against him, dropping kisses anywhere he can reach, and Dean reaches out to pull his face down to kiss him, needing something to ground him against the overwhelming feeling of Cas slowly taking him apart with his tongue.

As good as it is, Dean’s starting to feel a little selfish. Benny’s erection is insistent against him, and Dean slips his hand down between their bodies to wrap around it. Benny hisses, an inhuman sound that might once have had Dean reaching for a weapon but now just makes him smile, triumphant. He wraps his hand around Benny’s cock, rubbing his thumb lightly over the tip, and presses a kiss to the hollow of his throat. 

“You’ve got wicked hands,” Benny breathes, eyes dark with desire. 

Dean opens his mouth to make a smug reply, but his words are cut off as Cas slips a finger inside him. He arches back into it, his grip on Benny loosening for a second before tightening again. “Fuck,” he says instead. It’s really the only possible reply. “Cas.”

He doesn’t get a response. Cas’ mouth is otherwise occupied. Dean draws in a deep breath and focuses on Benny, pulling out all his best tricks. Benny’s gasping in his grasp by the time Cas has two fingers inside Dean, crooking them just right, and if he keeps this up much longer, Dean’s going to lose any semblance of control he might have.

“Cas,” he says again, firmer this time. One last flick of Cas’ tongue, and then he pulls himself up to rest his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“What do you want?” he asks, impressively calm. Deceptively, too-- Dean can feel how hard he is, how much effort it’s taking for him to keep his voice steady. 

There are times Dean lets them decide. He likes watching the unspoken communication between them, proof that there’s a genuine connection there and not just their shared affection for Dean. 

Other times, he gets to choose.

Dean rolls onto his back and spreads his legs wide. The first time he and Cas fucked, he was a nervous, babbling wreck, barely able to ask for what he really wanted. Now he just sprawls there like the most wanton of Harlequin heroines and watches as both his lovers draw in quick breaths at the sight. 

“Benny.”

It’s all he needs to say. There’s no resentment in Cas’ face as Benny surges forward to kiss Dean, settling between his legs as he does. Cas props himself up on one elbow and stares deeply into Dean’s eyes as Benny hitches his hips higher and slides into him in one smooth thrust.

God, he feels good. Benny’s big everywhere, solid and warm and vital, filling Dean up in the most satisfying way. He waits a moment for Dean to adjust to his size, and then he starts to move. Deep, slow thrusts, withdrawing almost completely before pushing back in. Dean reaches up to trail one hand over Benny’s broad back and feels him shudder, losing his rhythm just for a second. Then he finds his composure again and drives his hips forward, a little faster this time. Dean groans and wraps his legs around Benny’s waist, encouraging. They’ll have plenty of time to go slow later.

Cas is still beside him, his free hand tracing patterns over whatever exposed skin of Dean’s he can reach. Dean thinks he might be writing something in Enochian, but he’s too distracted by the way Benny’s cock feels inside him to be sure. 

“So good for us,” Cas murmurs into Dean’s ear. “So good, Dean.”

Dean shudders, biting down on his lower lip. Cas knows what those words do to him, that tone. Cas smiles and leans over to kiss him briefly, then pulls back, his fingertips dancing over the line of Dean’s cheekbone. 

It’s too good of an invitation to pass up. Dean catches his wrist and tugs Cas’ hand down to his mouth, tongue darting out to meet the tips of his fingers. Cas stills, eyes flaring wide, and doesn’t pull back as Dean deliberately runs his tongue down the length of his pointer and middle finger, then draws them into his mouth.

“Lord,” Benny says, voice full of awe as he looks down on them. “You are in a mood.”

Dean doesn’t bother answering, just snaps his hips up to meet Benny’s next thrust and continues to lavish attention on Cas’ hands. Cas is gorgeous from head to toe, but he’s got a few special spots that Dean’s absolutely mad for: the sharp lines of his hips, the thick bulge of his thighs, and his hands. Christ, his hands. They’re broad and strong and capable and they hold Dean’s heart like a treasure.

There’s one other part of Cas’ body Dean is particularly fond of, and it’s been relatively neglected so far. He loosens his grip on Cas’ wrist, pulling his fingers away with some reluctance, and reaches up to lay a hand on Benny’s waist. “Wait,” he says.

A faint frown creases Benny’s brow, but he pulls out, and Dean sits up to kiss away the line of worry before flipping smoothly onto his stomach and pushing up to his hands and knees. He hears Benny’s startled indrawn breath, and a low sound of approval from Cas. 

“C’mere,” Dean urges, looking up at Cas. “I want you both.”

“And who are we to deny you?” Cas replies. He runs the pad of his thumb over Dean’s lips, then grins as he sways up to his knees and positions himself in front of Dean. 

He can’t see it, but Dean can imagine the look that passes between Cas and Benny. The one that tells Benny to wait, just a moment, while Dean takes Cas’ cock into his mouth. While Cas’ hand comes to rest on Dean’s head, not pushing but steadying, as Dean takes him even deeper.

Then, when Dean is sufficiently distracted, Benny slides back inside him.

Dean never thought he could have this. Filled up at both ends, but not in a cheap, tawdry, fleeting sort of way. In a way that feels like true harmony, like being exactly where he wants to be. Cas’ cock is heavy on his tongue, the taste of him familiar, not as thick as Benny but maybe a bit longer. Dean’s had them both in just about every possible way-- between the three of them, they’ve got a nearly endless capacity for imagination and enough willingness to bring any wild fantasy to life-- but privately he thinks this might be his favourite. 

“Look at you,” Benny murmurs, hands warm on Dean’s hips as he holds him steady. “Taking us so well.”

Cas hums in agreement, hand running gently through Dean’s hair as he shifts his hips forward, pressing further into Dean’s mouth. “So beautiful,” he says, voice even lower than usual, but the gravel-roughness softened by affection. “So good.”

It’s hard not to believe them, with the way they’re touching him like he’s something precious, like he’s something adored. Dean surrenders to it, to them, and lets himself be loved. 

Everything else fades away, everything but the slow drag of Benny’s cock inside him, the way he buries himself so deep before withdrawing. Everything but the warmth of Cas’ cock in his mouth, the faint musk that lingers in the shadows between his thighs. For two non-human beings, they’re surprisingly human in these moments: vulnerable in their pleasure, desperate in their need. 

Dean never feels closer to them than he does when they’re like this.

The heat in his body is pooling in his core, his cock hard and heavy between his legs. Benny’s saying something in French again, the cadence familiar even if the language isn’t, and Cas is losing his rhythm in the way that means he’s close to the edge. Dean pulls away and glances up to meet his eyes. “Come on,” he coaxes. “Give it to me.”

Cas’ hands tighten in his hair, just for a second, as he snaps his hips forward. Dean relaxes his jaw and lets Cas fuck his mouth, the insistence of it driving him backwards and deeper onto Benny’s cock as he does. God, he’s so full. 

“Dean,” Benny gasps out. His hand closes over Dean’s hip, searing hot.

“Go on.” Cas’ voice is wrecked as he encourages Benny. “Give him what he needs. What you both need.”

One last deep thrust, one bitten-off curse, and Benny’s coming inside Dean. Dean moans around Cas’ cock as he feels the liquid heat spread through him. Benny holds perfectly still and silent, then runs his hand down Dean’s back, a wordless gesture of appreciation and affection. 

He doesn’t pull out, though. Not yet. Cas’ eyes are narrowed, his plush lower lip caught between his teeth as Dean works him sloppily, hungrily, all finesse abandoned. 

“Your turn,” Benny announces, breathing ragged. 

Cas throws his head back, exposing the gorgeous line of his neck, and comes warm and thick in Dean’s mouth. Dean drinks him down greedily, working Cas through his orgasm until soft, strong hands guide him away.

Benny flows onto his knees and pulls Dean back against his chest, slipping free as he does. Cas surges forward to chase the taste of himself from Dean’s mouth, one hand closing over Dean’s cock. Dean sighs and tips his head back to rest on Benny’s shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as Cas pulls away to kiss Benny as well. He’s pressed so tightly between them it should feel claustrophobic, but Dean feels safer, more secure, than he ever has before.

Benny slips a hand down to rest on Dean’s stomach, just above where Cas is still working at his cock. He presses down gently and Dean groans. “Come on, now,” Benny murmurs in his ear, soft as the falling snow. “Let go for us, Dean.”

Cas twists his hand just right, eyes intent on Dean’s face. “Please,” he says, and Dean is undone. His orgasm tears through him with the force of an avalanche, and if it weren’t for Benny’s broad chest behind him, he’d topple over for sure. Cas is gentle with him, almost reverent, using his free hand to tilt Dean’s face up for a kiss. 

“Beautiful,” he says again. 

Dean exhales slowly, sagging back into Benny’s arms. “Jesus,” he mutters under his breath. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Over his head, Cas and Benny exchange slow, wicked smiles. “Oh, we’re just getting started,” Benny whispers in his ear. “We’ve got this place for what, two more nights?”

“And that rug in front of the fireplace looks quite soft and comfortable,” Cas continues. He presses a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “I have a number of intriguing thoughts centering around it.”

“Good,” Dean says, too fucked-out to come up with any clever reply. “Tell me about them after I take a nap.”

Benny laughs low in Dean’s ear and eases him down onto the bed. “You sleep, cher. We’ll clean up.”

“Mmn-hmn.” Dean’s eyes are already drifting closed as Cas waves a hand over them, efficiently taking care of any lingering messes. He catches a glimpse of Cas and Benny whispering to each other, heads close together. Benny says something that makes Cas smile, then leans in to kiss him before Cas swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, unconcerned with his nakedness.

“Hey,” Dean mumbles before Cas can leave the room. “This was a good idea.”

Cas turns to look back at him, a soft smile hovering on his lips. “It was,” he agrees. 

Benny smooths a hand through Dean’s hair, and Dean leans into the touch. “It sure was,” Benny responds. “Hush now, Dean. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Dean hums in contentment, burrowing deeper into the covers that Benny tugs up over him. Just before he drifts off, he says, “Next year, we’re getting a place with a bathtub,” and lets the warm laughter of his lovers lull him into sleep.


End file.
